


Ichabod and Abbie Talk Queer Stuff

by gallantrejoinder



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Bisexual!Abbie, F/M, LGBTQ Themes, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallantrejoinder/pseuds/gallantrejoinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s difficult to come up with a nicer way of saying ‘so did you have a bunch of guys getting it on in the battlefield?’ to a man who’s skipped a couple of centuries of human rights’ developments. Not to mention the slang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ichabod and Abbie Talk Queer Stuff

Crane has developed the annoying habit of waking up very, _very_ early and watching the television that happens to be _right next to her room_ without seeming to realise that she rarely gets sleep-ins. Though she’s still not entirely sure he’s actually a time traveller, she can’t help but mutter threats about sending him back to the damn war herself as she stretches out her limbs, still heavy with sleep. 

By the time she’s dragged herself to the kitchen and managed to down some caffeine, Crane has discovered the news. The real news, not just morning television. Still half-asleep and already running through the list of things she has to get done today in her head, Abbie doesn’t notice what the top story is until he speaks

‘Lieutenant! Miss Mills, I mean. There is a – I mean to say, as is often unfortunately the case in this world of yours, there is something I do not understand.’

She doesn’t think she’ll ever be used to his verbosity. How hard can it be to say ‘Hey, Abbie, I don’t get this, help me out?’ But he’s taken to modern slang about as well as she took to an English accent the one time she tried in front of him. _Not an accurate impression . . ._

‘Yeah, what is it?’ She tries to be patient. Missing out on two hundred years does do a number on you.

‘Well, am I correct in saying that these news reports are truthful?’ 

She snorts. ‘To a point, yeah.’ It had been difficult to explain that some programs were based in reality; others were more theatrical, and how to tell the difference.

‘But they are not wildly inaccurate?’

‘Not really, I guess.’

He looks perplexed. ‘Then, Miss Mills, I must ask that you explain this,’ he says, gesturing towards the screen. It takes her a moment to catch up with what the presenter’s saying, until –

‘–protesters this morning are demanding that the governor reconsider his position on same-sex marriage, and have been demonstrating outside–’

_Shit._ She knew this conversation would come up sooner or later, but she’d been hoping for later. 

The problem is that she’s not really sure if she could bear it if he turned out to be really bigoted, and not just ignorant. Congratulating her on emancipation, as offensive as that may have been, was done with good intentions. He’d quickly learned a brief history of racism in America from Google and Wikipedia, which were the only things he was now capable of doing on his own on her computer. After all, he’d been on the right side of the war; it wasn’t that difficult to explain that equality between races was more complicated than the destruction of slavery. And he’d quickly gotten used to women in all areas of life, but she thinks that’s probably the result of having a strong-willed wife who was a witch to boot.

Explaining queerness, though, that . . . that was something she had not looked forward to. Nowhere to hide now, though.

‘Yeah, um. That’s pretty much true. I don’t – uh, didn’t you ever have . . . men in the army, who – who preferred the company of other men?’ She winces at her terrible wording, but it’s difficult to come up with a nicer way of saying ‘so did you have a bunch of guys getting it on in the battlefield?’ to a man who’s skipped a couple of centuries of human rights’ developments. Not to mention the slang.

He pauses to reflect. ‘Well, Miss Mills, I – there were certainly – I am not sure such conversation is appropriate for a lady –’

Her temper flares, she can’t help it. ‘If you call me a lady like I am not also a cop who has seen her fair share of the dirty side of life again, Crane, I swear I will take you right back to the hospital.’

He has the grace to look abashed. ‘I only meant that such men existed, but their – _activities_ were considered the natural product of the absence of women.’

She sighs. ‘Yeah, trust me when I say a lot of them would have acted exactly the same whether there were women or not. And uh, you might not be aware, but there are women like that too. Who prefer the company of other women, I mean.’

He pauses again, to digest the information. ‘And . . . this is seen as natural, here.’

She sits beside him on the couch and leans her head on her hand. ‘Sort of. Most people are smart enough to realise that people like that just exist, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Some people like people who are the same gender, some people like – any gender.’ She looks down, at that. ‘I’m, um. I’m one of the latter.’ There’s a beat of silence.

‘I see,’ he says.

‘Look, I mean, I know it’s a lot to adjust to. I can – there’s some Wikipedia articles I can show you,’ she says, terribly afraid that he’s going to do something awful, something to shatter the feeling almost like friendship that’s been forming between them.

‘I would appreciate that. It is a difficult concept to – yes.’ 

So she pulls up some articles and leaves him to it, feeling queasy and unsure and hating that she’s already let him far enough in that she cares if he accepts her or not.

~

By the time the afternoon rolls around, Abbie is extremely annoyed that her day off has been ruined by the morning, and frustrated that Crane hasn’t yet asked her any more questions. And that is something she never thought she’d be irritated by.

She tentatively wanders into the kitchen around lunch time to find him engrossed in the computer, still typing as slowly as a grandfather. She finds that endearing, and also painful to watch – which is a good description of her relationship with him thus far.

‘Ichabod? Do you need anything?’

He looks up, startled. ‘Oh no, Miss Mills, I am quite well. Though I have found this all somewhat confusing, I have yet made some sense of what I have read. It is – well, though I am sure my comrades were unaware that this is what would become of the country we fought for, it is comforting to know that even unto today liberties are still of concern to its citizens.’

Again with the verbal onslaught.

‘So, what? You think we – you think people with those preferences should be allowed those liberties?’

He folds his hands. ‘I admit, I had reservations. But upon investigation, it seems to me that such rights are universal, are they not?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then how can they be granted to one citizen and not the other? It seems to me that science and reason have proven that there are no ill effects suffered by the parenting of a child by two mothers or fathers, and your encyclopaedia has provided much evidence to suggest that such inclinations may in fact be natural. Though, I confess, I am lost on the subject of evolution, which makes many appearances in the scientific –’

‘Woah woah woah. Are you – so, you’re cool?’

He wrinkles his forehead in confusion, an expression she’s beginning to recognise as his stock response to the modern world.

‘Cool, Miss Mills?’

‘I mean, you’re accepting of it. The whole deal with same-sex marriages, civil rights for people with those inclinations – you support them?’

‘Given the overwhelming evidence in its favour, I must say yes. I am a man of reason, Miss Mills, despite the supernatural elements that have brought me here, and I – oh, I am so sorry, have I said something to offend?’

Abbie was definitely not tearing up, not because of a 250 year old soldier of the Revolutionary War saying that he was her ally. Certainly not because his acceptance means more to her than she wants to admit.

‘No, Ichabod, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re fine.’

He frowns again, in that infuriatingly endearing way he has. ‘I – if you say so, Miss Mills.’ He looks very flustered, and Abbie reasons that his wife must have been a _very_ formidable woman if he’s this bothered by a woman crying.

‘I gotta admit, I thought maybe you wouldn’t be ok with all this. I mean, theory is one thing, but I thought you’d have some trouble accepting Luke is my only male ex.’

He stares. ‘Then there were others you were betrothed to?’

She grins. ‘Well, not betrothed. But uh, yeah, there were others. There was Sarah, Joanne and Luke. It isn’t legal for me to marry a woman in most places anyway.’

He’s getting better at understanding relationships without marriage, so he doesn’t seem as scandalised as he did when he met Luke. She laughs, suddenly, because the look on his face is so reminiscent of the way August looked when she told him about Sarah. Which is to say, utterly fine with it all and somewhat eager to get on with whatever he was doing in the first place.

Without stopping to think it through so she can change her mind, she shuffles forward and hugs him. 

‘Thanks, Ichabod,’ she whispers, and as she steps back she almost thinks she can see him blushing.

‘You are quite welcome, Miss Mills, though I do not know what I’ve done to deserve it.’

She just laughs and walks over to open the fridge. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Smiling devilishly, she spots a plate of leftover Chinese. ‘Have I introduced you to the microwave yet?’

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to One Direction's "I would" on repeat past midnight if it's shit we officially place the blame on the 1D boys got that?
> 
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about the period of history from whence Ichabod arises. Australians represent.
> 
> Also, my kingdom for bisexual!Abbie.


End file.
